


Wendy's Gift

by EmiKougamine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Birthday Presents, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiKougamine/pseuds/EmiKougamine
Summary: Australia takes the kids out for a walk, and Sealand returns not just refreshed, but inspired. The question is, what's all the creativity for? Or rather, who?Human names used.
Relationships: Sealand & Wy (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Wendy's Gift

It was autumn, and signs of the turning season were everywhere. Trees were a riot of colour as their leaves changed from vibrant green to brilliant oranges, yellows and vivid crimsons before falling off the branches entirely to crunch underfoot on the frosty grass. Trees and bushes were abundant in a rich harvest of nuts and berries, and the woods were filled with animals busily preparing for the coming winter. Birds sang and chirped merrily in the crisp, cool air, and squirrels chased each other around mighty oaks as they competed for the choicest acorns and other tasty treats to see them through the cold. Their scolding chatter echoed as their bushy tails flew out behind them when they leaped from branch to branch.

Inside the rooms where the world conferences were held, fires were lit to keep out the growing cold, and the nations remarked to one another at how quickly the year seemed to have gone by, and when they thought the first snows would start to fall. Outside, the children were kept entertained by making huge piles of fallen leaves and jumping into them, supervised by the older micronations who, as usual, either weren’t allowed or chose not to attend.

One sign of the approaching season was _not_ so welcome, though. The chill and damp sent many smaller creatures searching for a source of warmth and safety, and the most readily available place for this was in the humans’ houses. Mice, owls and bats nesting in the rafters could be put up with; insects such as daddy-long-legs and moths could not. They were gently captured and put back outside where they belonged. But there was one insect that was not to be tolerated at any cost.

Spiders. The pedants would argue that arachnids were not technically insects, per se, but Latin classification tended to take a back seat when one was actually confronted with the little critters. And sometimes not so little, the countries found, when they came into a room to find one scuttling up the wall or dangling from a web. They seemed to range in size from less than a fingernail, to the circle made by finger and thumb. Sometimes they even grew up to the circumference of a palm, though those were, thankfully, rarer.

Although the adults were more than capable of dealing with the unwelcome pests on their own, the one called upon most often to take action was Australia, being rather used to the sight of spiders.

After yet another attempt to kill a particularly stubborn, not to mention speedy, specimen, even the normally laid-back Kyle decided he had had enough. On one especially fine autumn day when the air was clear and fresh and the ground was covered in a fine layer of frost that the sun had not yet managed to melt, he called the children together and invited them on a walk.

“So, where exactly are we going?” Charlotte asked her brother as they wandered through a field that led to the woods behind the conference centre.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, earning a huff from Erland, who was annoyed at being away from his laptop. Even the Ladonian had to admit that it was a lovely day, though, as they walked through the frost-dipped strands of grass that shimmered in the early morning sunlight.

Behind them, Peter, Alexandru and Hans shared a curious look. Sebastian and Sean, who had tagged along in the absence of anything else to do, also raised an eyebrow at their friend’s mysterious words.

The group continued walking, reaching the woods and taking the path that would lead to what was called a ‘natural woodland play space’. In real terms, it was an area of the woods that had been turned into a playpark-come-picnic area. All the fixtures – slide, swings, xylophone, rope run and benches, had been made with lumber from the surrounding trees. The only exception was the roundabout and zipwire, which contained some metal as well to hold everything together.

The kids brightened when they realised where they were going, but Kyle stopped them before they actually arrived. He stopped midway along the path, where the trees grew thickest and the trail was dappled with patches of mottled sunlight. The group looked from one to another, exchanging mystified shrugs as they wondered what the Australian had in mind.

“O.K mates, we’re here!” he declared, taking off his backpack and setting it on the ground. He opened it and took out eight little drawstring pouches, handing one to each of the nations and keeping one for himself.

Peter stared at the pouch in his hands. “Um, what are these for?” he asked, turning it over as he examined it for clues.

“Conkers!” Kyle exclaimed triumphantly, his tan face lighting up in a smile at the look of bafflement on the others’ faces.

“What about them, exactly?” Hans dared to ask, his braids swaying as he tilted his head.

“We’re going to gather as many conkers as we can find. Put them in your bags, then when we get back we can put them in the corners and along the windowsills.” He explained. “It will keep the spiders out, they don’t like horse chestnuts. Don’t know why, exactly, but if it works, no worries, eh?”

Sebastian nodded, his expression changing to one of understanding as he looked at all the trees laden with prickly green cases. “Si, I’ve heard of that.” he said. “I don’t know if it works either, though. But even if not, you could always make them into decorations or something.” Hans’ eyes immediately lit up at the thought, his artistic mind whirling with creative ways to use the shiny nuts. 

Now that they knew the reason why Kyle was so insistent that they join him, the children’s faces perked up, their confused frowns replaced with eager grins as they went to work. Soon, their searches were rewarded with triumphant shouts as the micronations discovered the shiny prizes hidden amongst the frozen leaves. As the adults congratulated them on each new discovery, it turned into a competition of sorts, the children urging each other on to find the biggest, brightest or most perfectly shaped conkers. Bonus points were awarded if they managed to find one still encased in its’ prickly shell, whole and intact. Then, the fun came in trying to prize open the tough green case, without damaging the precious nut nestled within.

Sebastian, Kyle and Sean were content to watch over the younger nations as they ran around with seemingly-endless energy, acting as judges as the children brought each new acquisition over to be inspected. Predictably, though, their supervision also extended to stepping in to resolve an inevitable dispute over ownership. 

“Hey, that one was mine! I saw it first!” Peter’s indignant voice sounded out, interrupting the adult’s conversation.

“Did not!” Erland retorted crossly, sticking out his tongue.

“Did too!”

“Did _not_!”

“ _Did too_ ”!

The bickering ranged back and forth until Kyle headed over to sort things out, Charlotte in tow as she followed her brother.

“Hey, mates, take it easy there,” he chided gently. “There’s plenty enough for both of you, you don’t have to fight.”

At his words, the brothers huffed and crossed their arms, but didn’t pursue the point. Peter caught Charlotte’s faintly exasperated expression and looked away, embarrassed to have been caught arguing over something so petty. Erland didn’t fail to notice, and stepped away with a shrug.

“Whatever. It’s just a conker. I’ve got loads already, you can have it,” he said nonchalantly, going over to join Hans and Alex. Kyle nodded approvingly, and went back to resume his conversation with the other adults.

Peter bent down and picked up the offending nut. “Here.” He held it out to Charlotte, who gave him a questioning look.

“Why are you giving it to me?” she asked. “I thought you wanted it, wasn’t that why you were arguing in the first place?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to show it to you. Look.” He turned it over, revealing the paler underside. Aside from the conker being perfectly round, smooth and unblemished, the creamy flesh was shaped in a peculiar pattern, almost like a star. It was very unusual, and Charlotte took the offering with a curious eye.

“Wow, that’s cool. Thanks mate!” she said, turning it round in her mittened hand. She popped it into her bag and drew the drawstring tight, making sure it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re very welcome,” Peter told her, before being interrupted by Kyle calling out to them. They went over to see what he wanted, Sebastian ushering Hans and Alexandru over as well.

Kyle waited until everyone was gathered around again before speaking.

“Well, guys, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get a bit hungry. How about we call it a day here and go get some tucker?”

The children looked to one another, debating whether food was more important than continuing their search, but the matter was decided for them by the sound of their rumbling stomachs. Unanimously, they decided filling their stomachs was more important than filling their bags, so after a brief discussion the group turned back and headed for the complex, eager for mugs of hot chocolate and freshly-baked cookies.

Once they were back inside and settled with snacks, the task of sorting and comparing their haul began. Each pouch was emptied and carefully sorted according to size, shape or overall roundness, with a few of the most pleasing specimens set aside, being deemed too pretty to be used as mere insect-repellent.

Hans decided he was going to ask Roderich or Ludwig to bore through the conkers so he could make them into decorations for their Christmas tree. Painted with bright colours or patterned with spots of gold, they were sure to look very pretty amongst the glittering tinsel and little wooden figures. Alexandru, Charlotte and Erland agreed that sounded like fun, and Hans generously offered the use of his studio at home for the three of them to join him. He’d ask Roderich later, but he was sure Austria wouldn’t mind – it was Art, after all, and the pursuit of Art was always to be encouraged. Hopefully.

Peter, however, had a rather different idea. While making the conkers into baubles for the Christmas tree sounded nice, he wanted to try making a more individual decoration. Unknown to the others, conkers weren’t the only things he had collected on the walk.

While no-one had been looking, Peter had been collecting acorns and slipping them into his pocket. He’d always found the little nuts more interesting than conkers, and each year he always took the ones he found the most interesting home, to keep for his collection. But every year, time and the elements would take their toll on the nuts, turning their once shiny, bright brown shells dull, the knobbly hats withering up to become dust and mould. Fresh, green shells would turn first yellow, then the same dried up brown as their fallen comrades, and Peter would have to throw them out before Hana accidentally ate them. Each year, Tino would gently remind Peter that acorns were hardly in danger of disappearing any time soon, and he could always rebuild his collection when autumn rolled around again.

But that wasn’t good enough, as far as he was concerned. And this year, Peter had a plan. But he couldn’t do it alone.

***

“Mum, do we have any resin?”

Tino blinked at the rather out-of-blue question, head tilting to one side as he frowned in thought.

“I think so, in the cupboard with the glue and everything, but what on earth do you need it for?” he asked.

“We’re doing an art project,” Peter replied, in an ‘isn’t-it-obvious’ tone. “Good girl, Hana,” he added, picking up the ball the little Maltese had dropped at his feet; rolling it across the floor again for her to chase excitedly.

“Oh, I see. Well, I think we have some in the cupboard, but ask your father first. He’ll show you how to use it, alright?”

“OK. Thanks.” Peter nodded and turned back to playing with Hana, her stumpy white tail vibrating in eagerness as she waited for the toy to be thrown again. Tino smiled and went back to the kitchen, where Lukas was making toast for him and Mathias. Emil was looking at his phone, a stick of licorice in his mouth as he scrolled across the screen. 

“So, what d’ y’ need th’ resin for?” Berwald asked, as he lifted the box containing various art and repair supplies down from the shelf. Like all the other boxes lined up in neat rows, this one was meticulously labelled and sorted, saving the hassle of rooting around and coughing away dust. 

“You’ll see.” Peter’s mysterious answer didn’t help, but Berwald obediently followed his son as he dragged him upstairs. Peter opened the door to his bedroom, and tugged Berwald inside. Going to the desk, he took a handful of the items scattered around it and held his hand out triumphantly.

“Look, dad, aren’t they perfect? They’re all shiny, and they’ve still got the hats on!”

Berwald peered at the acorns nestled in his son’s hand with some bewilderment. Yes, they were rather pretty, but so what? They were hardly unique, and he failed to see the connection between them and the need for specialised artistic liquid.

“Very nice. But wh’t are y’ going t’ do with ‘em?” Berwald asked again, still not understanding exactly what his son was so excited about.

Peter sat down with his prizes, crossing his legs as he displayed the acorns on the floor. “I want to keep them, of course,” he said. “I could make them into knucklebones, look!” He gathered a few of them up and threw them in the air, turning his hand down to catch them neatly in the joints of his fingers. “The sailors used to play them all the time on the fort, but I don’t have any anymore. Or I could make them into dice or something, I don’t know.”

“’nd th’ resin?”

“That’s to stop them drying out. They always end up going old and boring, then mum makes me throw them away because I don’t do anything with them. Uncle Lukas said I could use a spell to keep them preserved, but I don’t know how to do that and I don’t want him to do it because I want to do it myself. So then I asked Hans what he would use to keep stuff like this new, cause he knows about art and things, and he said to use resin. And mum said I had to ask you how to use it so I don’t make a mess, even though I’m sure I’d be able to figure out how to do it by myself.” 

Berwald patiently listened to his son’s rather roundabout explanation, then nodded. “I see. I c’n show y’ how to use it, then. Anythin’ else y’ want t’ do?”

A pause, then Peter reached down and sorted through his collection until he found the one he wanted. He held the acorn up the light, showing it to the Swede. It was the perfect example of its’ kind – the shell smooth and evenly shaped, no blemishes or marks staining the surface, and the wood a polished golden-brown, glistening with health. The stem was still attached, perfectly straight and indeed looking for all the world like a little hat on top of the nut.

“Can you make this into a necklace?”

A bit of an odd request, but Berwald nodded solemnly. It shouldn’t be too difficult to bore a hole through the middle of the nut and put a chain through it, and casting it in resin was a relatively simple process, if a bit sticky.

The rest of the afternoon was spent dipping the little nuts into the clear resin and hanging them along a string to dry. Once that was completed, Berwald took the acorn Peter had favoured, along with a few test subjects, and carefully drilled a hole through it, using the smallest attachment to the drill he had. It was fiddly work, but the look of happiness on Peter’s face at the end made it all worthwhile.

Soon, Peter had a small pile of glossy nuts, some with holes in them and some left plain. He had decided to paint some of them with numbers to use as knucklebones and dice, and keep the rest for future decisions. The one destined for jewellery went into a box of its’ own, nestled into tissue paper and wrapped with a bow. Peter had decided a silver chain didn’t look right with something so natural, so Tino had shown him how to make a necklace from a length of string, tied at both ends so that it was secure, yet still adjustable. 

The question was, who was it for? An acorn necklace, while certainly individual and different to say the least, wasn’t exactly an everyday accessory. When Tino asked Peter who he intended to give his present to, he only replied that it was a surprise and they’d find out soon enough.

A couple of weeks later, the question was finally answered. It was mid-November, and the micros were preparing for a birthday. 15th November marked the day a certain family declared themselves independent from the rest of their country, establishing a micronation from their home, and consequently birthing a new personification of the land and dreams.

Presents were exchanged and opened, givers were thanked and glasses raised in celebration. Peter approached Charlotte nervously, holding his own gift out in offering.

“Happy birthday, Charlotte! Here, this is for you.” He waited anxiously as she took the box, carefully unwrapping the ribbon and opening the lid. Inside, the acorn necklace lay nestled within, waiting to be worn.

“Oh!” Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as she saw the gift, holding it up to inspect it more carefully. She looked up at Peter, grinning as she gently worked the necklace over her head and centered it on her chest. It fell delicately to sit just in the hollow of her throat, between her collarbones.

“Thanks mate! I love it!”

Peter’s expression lifted at her reply, matching her grin as she happily admired the gift.

“You do? I made it myself, so I wasn’t sure if it’d work or not. Well, Dad helped a bit,” he admitted, “but it was mostly me.”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows in admiration. “You made it yourself? Wow, that’s awesome! Makes it even more special.”

Peter looked down shyly. “I got the idea when Australia took us to collect conkers. I saw you looking at the acorns, and it reminded me of…well, us.”

Wy smiled again. “You bet. It’s perfect. But in that case, I should give you something as well.”

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday, not mine.”

Wy giggled, stepping forward to hug Peter before drawing back and pressing her lips to his cheek. She stepped back, grinning as his face became tinted in pink. 

“It’s the story, isn’t it? You gave me a kiss, so I gave you one too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This came about from rewatching the 2003 live action Peter Pan one time, and wondering how to write Sealand and Wy with reference to Peter and Wendy, because they're just so adorable together.


End file.
